


Self-Preservation

by revolutionbarbie



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Band!Todd, Dirk still wants to be a detective, Not Beta Read, Rich!Dirk, and Todd is still destined to be his assis-friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolutionbarbie/pseuds/revolutionbarbie
Summary: All the money in the world couldn’t buy Dirk the instinct for self-preservation.ORTodd rescues Dirk - heir to the Gently family fortune - from a mugger and thinks that will be the end of it. Instead Dirk decides that this apparently qualifies Todd to be his best friend and is refusing to leave him alone. Cue shenanigans?





	1. Chapter 1

  

          Todd would be the first to admit that he was not a _good guy_. Sure, he didn’t go out of his way to be an ass, but that didn’t make him any less of an asshole. If anything, Todd thought that made it worse, since he couldn’t even put in the effort to being an asshole. Instead he would just wait until a situation in which he could be a good person presented itself and then promptly ignore it or walk in the opposite direction. Which is exactly what he ought to be doing right about now. Todd was never averse to cutting through dingy alleys on his way home from playing at a local bar, safe in the knowledge that there was nothing of value on his person except maybe his kidneys. He knew that plenty of people got mugged in the same alleys, but he never expected to actually see one going down.

            But that was exactly what was happening in front of him. Further down the alley a man in a hoodie was shoving another man – wearing an absurd peacock blue leather jacket – repeatedly in the chest, while gesturing with his other hand. Todd winced when he saw a flash of silver. Great, an armed mugger.

            “Shut your mouth, pretty boy, and hand over your goddamn wallet!” The mugger punctuated each of these words with a shove. Instead of complying however, the man’s face lit up like a six-year-old at Disneyland.

            “Do you really think I’m pretty? No one has told me that in years!” Todd sighed in his head, this guy was absolutely going to get himself stabbed. He also had to be lying, between the charming British accent and his face there was no way people weren’t constantly telling him how pretty he is. And if they weren’t then they ought to be. Not that it was entirely relevant at the present moment.

            “Wallet! Now!” The mugger was practically screaming in his face and that at least seemed to snap the man out of it, his face changing from delighted to indignant.

            “I really don’t think the yelling is necessary.” Never mind, he still wasn’t acting like a sane person. “It’s quite late, I’m sure people are asleep and they probably don’t want to be awoken by your dulcet tones.” The mugger himself seemed shocked by the man’s attitude, and Todd felt a moment of sympathy for him. “And at any rate, you can’t have my wallet, I left it in my car.” Oh he was so going to get stabbed.

            Todd had accepted that he wasn’t a good person, he’d had years of being an asshole to acclimatise to the fact that he would go through sometimes comical contortions to avoid being a good person. And yet he had the urge to step in, to at least try and stop this absurd British peacock from being stabbed in a dingy alley next to a foreclosed furniture store. He would tell himself later that it was only to avoid embroiling himself in a murder case, and that they were technically in his way and he really wanted to get home without further incident.

            He ran through a plan in his head, involving a clever lie about how he had already called the police and that there was no need to stab anyone since it would only get him into more trouble. Todd took a few steps towards the pair, and yelled, “Hey!” That was as far into his clever speech as he got, as the mugger glanced towards him and then took off running down the alley and into the street.

            “Well that was anti-climactic.” Todd mumbled to himself. He nodded at the man. “You okay?”

            “That,” His face had lit up like a Christmas tree again. “was so cool!” The man grabbed his arm, shaking it slightly in excitement. “It was like something out of a super-hero film!” Todd frowned at him, extracting his arm slowly.

            “Not really, all I did was yell at him.”

            “But in a very super-hero manner!” The man was grinning at him again, “So cool.” He reiterated. Todd shrugged, walking towards the street, aware that the man was following him.

            “Anyway…. I’m going that way,” he nodded down the street, “so y’know get home safely.”

            “Right! I will definitely do that.” Todd made it a few steps before the man ran after him. “Do you want a ride home? After all, it’s the least I could do for my rescuer.” Todd sighed mentally, adding the interaction to the list of why he didn’t act like a good person.

            “No, thanks. It’s only a couple of blocks. I can walk.”

            “Right, of course.” The man bounced on his heels. “I’m Dirk, by the way, Dirk Gently.” He held out a hand and Todd walked back towards him a few paces to shake it. “Todd Brotzman.” When the man, Dirk, looked like he might continue following him Todd spoke again, “You should get back to your car, this neighbourhood isn’t really a safe place to park.” Dirk nodded.

            “Yes, definitely. Bye then.” Todd gave him a wave and set off down the street again, this time the man didn’t come trotting after him.

 ***

             Todd thought his life had returned to normal – devoid of British peacocks that is – until a few weeks later. Walking through the same alley on his way home from playing at the same bar, Todd spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall by the alley exit. This time Dirk Gently was wearing an even more absurd canary yellow leather jacket and Todd had to remind himself that he did not find the man’s collection of rainbow leather endearing in the slightest. Instead, he allowed himself to wonder why the man was there at all.

            As Todd neared, Dirk glanced up and gave him another bright smile. “Todd! Back on the super-hero route I see!” Dirk bounced on his heels until Todd was level with him and then matched his pace.

            “Not the super-hero route, just the going home route.” Todd corrected, walking slightly faster than he would otherwise have. Dirk didn’t seem to mind, bouncing along next to him with far too much energy for very early on a Saturday morning. Todd wondered how many drugs he was on.

            “But it isn’t your usual route home. You haven’t taken this route since the mugging, at least not at night. Do you walk this way during the day?” Todd stopped walking, turning to frown at the canary next to him.

            “How do you know I haven’t walked this way since the mugging?” He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

            “Well I’ve been waiting here every night since the mugging, just in case you walked this way.” Dirk replied, as though that wasn’t the creepiest thing Todd had heard all night.

            “That’s the creepiest thing I’ve heard all night.” Dirk had to know that right? That waiting in a dark alley for someone was not a normal thing. It must be the drugs, there was no way this guy wasn’t on something.

            “Really?” Dirk sounded genuinely surprised by Todd’s horror. “How else was I supposed to contact you, it’s not like you left me your number. Or any sort of bat signal to light up the Seattle skyline with.” He seemed to have a sudden, wonderful idea. “But if you are taking suggestions vis-à-vis your super hero identity, I vote for BrotzMan.” Todd raised an eyebrow at him.

            “BrotzMan would the worst hero identity, y’know, since they’re supposed to hide who you are and that’s just my name.” The rest of what Dirk had said caught up with him. “And anyway, why would you need to contact me? If you want to press charges you should just give the police my name and let them do their job.”

            Dirk looked at him like he was being ridiculous. “Why would I want to press charges against you?” Todd resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands and scream.

            “Against the mugger!” Dirk’s face transformed into the perfect ‘o’.

            “Ah yes, I see now. That makes much more sense. But anyway, I don’t want to press charges against anyone. I just wanted to hang out.” The last part came out in a jumble of rushed words and Dirk was pointedly not looking directly at Todd.

            “Hang out?” Todd repeated. People wanting to ‘hang out’ with Todd wasn’t exactly a new phenomenon, but it usually only happened when he was either on stage or had recently stepped off the stage. It usually didn’t involve someone lurking in an alley for god-knows how many nights.

            “Yes, like we could get a coffee together, or watch a movie, or play some description of game that I will undoubtedly be terrible at.” Never mind, Dirk was apparently suggesting actual hanging out like actual friends. “In fact, there’s a 24-hour coffee house nearby. It’s only a 15-minute drive, and they have fantastic caramel mocha.”

            “I don’t think you need any more sugar or caffeine.” Todd pointed out and Dirk scoffed back at him. “And anyway we don’t know each other, so why would we hang out?” Todd continued walking down the street, Dirk falling into step beside him.

            “Well isn’t that how people become friends, by hanging out?” Dirk sounded much more unsure now and Todd felt guilty for a moment before he remembered that the entire situation was ridiculous.

            “You say that like you’ve never had a friend before.” Todd pointed out, not expecting Dirk to splutter and protest much too severely.

            “Excuse you! I’ve had plenty of friends, I have plenty of friends. Cool, fun friends who love spending time with me and who would be delighted to go for a caramel mocha with me! They don’t think I’ve ingested too much sugar and caffeine, because they’re my friends!” Dirk had stopped walking now and Todd turned to look at him, shocked at the outburst. “Tonnes of friends, I’ll have you know. I just thought maybe you could use a friend!” Todd couldn’t be sure, since he wasn’t standing that close and it was quite dark, but it almost looked like Dirk’s eyes (very pretty eyes) were watering a little. Before he could step forward and verify that, the canary man turned on his heel and marched off.

            “Well that was weird.”


	2. Chapter 2

            Todd woke the next morning to someone knocking sharply on his door. He paused a moment in his living room, waiting for the tell-tale screaming of Dorian, his landlord. Dorian was the only one who ever knocked on his door, although recently he tended towards screaming from the street and bashing Todd’s already totalled car with a hammer. When the expected screaming didn’t manifest, Todd crept over and peered through the peephole. There didn’t seem to be anyone there. He opened the door a little to check and found a single to-go coffee cup sitting neatly on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

            He picked it up hesitantly, wondering if Dorian had rigged it to explode and found a note scrawled in marker along the one side. _It occurs to me that I may have, briefly, lost my cool. If you’re amenable I would still like to hang out._ Below that there was a phone number and Todd frowned at it for a minute until the pieces dropped into place. He scrambled back into his apartment and over to the window. In the street below he spotted Dirk Gently, in that canary yellow jacket again, making his way over to a blue sports car.

            “What the fuck!” Todd banged on the window pane, glaring at the car as it roared off down the street.

            First this guy had been hanging around in a dark alley, waiting for him, and now he apparently had his address. Had he followed him home? Todd looked at the coffee in his hand and promptly walked over to the kitchen sink and emptied the contents out. It looked like it had been coffee, but considering the guy had been somewhat stalking him Todd didn’t particularly want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He dumped the empty cup into his trash and flopped face-down on his sofa.

            Maybe this was the universe giving him yet another sign that he should move apartments. Not only did he have a psycho landlord that was probably going to kill him with a hammer one of these days, but now he also had a British stalker. A rich British stalker, if the car was anything to go by.

            Todd hauled himself back up off his sofa and leaned over to the coffee table to pull his laptop onto his knees. Todd googled ‘Dirk Gently’ expecting to receive no relevant results and to feel like a bit of an idiot, but instead several news articles popped up. Three of them detailed a theatre opening attended by Sweeney and Vivienne Gently, one of which mentioned that _‘their son, Dirk Gently, was not in attendance. The Gently heir has not appeared at public gatherings for some time, following a rumoured outburst at the Diamond Jubilee celebrations in 2012.’_

            The fourth article was headed by a photograph of three people: a severe looking woman, a grim faced man and between them was a younger, but unmistakeable Dirk Gently looking miserable in a pressed suit. The article itself discussed the UK housing crisis, and how Sweeney Gently had made millions buying up cheap former council estates and turning them into luxury apartments.

            Todd tried another search for ‘Gently net worth’ and was rewarded with a Forbes article detailing how Dirk was already worth many millions of dollars and was expected to inherit several billion upon the death of his parents. Sections of the article were rather scathing, the author pointing out that Dirk had studied criminology rather than business at Cambridge, and that he had so far showed little to no interest in his father’s business ventures. The article even went so far as to suggest that Dirk was more likely to spend his inheritance partying rather than to actually invest it as his father had. The last section was what Todd found rather insulting; he had only met the man for a total of maybe 20 minutes and yet he got the feeling that partying was the last thing he would spend his time doing.

            If anything, Dirk seemed like he might invest his fortune in a range of multi-coloured leather jackets, or a chain of 24-hour coffee houses or obnoxiously bright sports cars. Possibly all three. Certainly not partying though. It definitely didn’t seem like Dirk had many people to be partying with. Todd felt a twinge of pity for him, and quickly stomped it down with reminders of how the man was stalking him, and that he was a millionaire, which automatically made it hard to feel anything other than annoyance towards him.

            He had brought him coffee though. Probably not poisoned coffee. Todd stared stubbornly at the wall for several long moments before sighing and stomping into his kitchen to fish the cup out of the trash. He added the number to his phone under the name _Dirk (Millionaire Stalker)_ and dumped the cup back into the trash. He poured himself some fresh, non-poisoned coffee from his own machine and wondered whether he should actually text Dirk. He didn’t want to seem like he was encouraging the stalking. That would be weird.

 

***

 

            Dirk _loved_ Seattle. It was just so _big._ There were so many _people._ And by logical extension, so many _mysteries_ waiting for him. Of course, Dirk had been to other cities; London and New York and Paris and Washington DC but none of them felt quite the same. That was probably because he’d been accompanied by his parents and their enormous team of personal staff who seemed to make it their primary mission to keep him from anything interesting. Seattle was the first city he had been to alone. No parents, no staff, no one looking over his shoulder. At first it had been a little frightening, especially since trouble just seemed to gravitate towards him, but there were many positives –

            “That’s $52.” The cashier cut across his spiel about how great Seattle was. He blinked at her for a moment and then came back to himself.

            “Right, of course.” Dirk had remembered to bring his wallet today, thanks to the bright orange post-it he had stuck to the steering wheel with ‘WALLET’ in big black marker. That mugger had been very upset that he had forgotten his wallet, and he didn’t want a repeat of that. He handed over the money and then continued on about Seattle.

            “As I was saying, Seattle might be a little scary but it also has so many unsolved cases. I mean, I’m sure the police here do their jobs admirably, but they overlook many fascinating crimes. Which is good for me, I suppose, since now I get to be the one to solve them and that’s really why I came to the United States in the first place-” She cut across his speech again by handing him his bag of groceries and his change.

            “Next!” The customer behind Dirk stepped pointedly into his personal space and he took the hint, shuffling off to the side to put his change away.

            One thing he was certainly learning about Seattle was that people liked to talk to him, or at least, they did for about 5 seconds and then they just became annoyed. Dirk wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing wrong, or whether he was just drawn to talk to easily irritated people. Todd, who had chased off the mugger, didn’t seem like he was entirely annoyed by Dirk. He had been a little put-off when Dirk had mentioned waiting in the alley to see him again. Admittedly, even while waiting in the alley night after night Dirk had pondered whether he was behaving like a ‘normal’ person would.

            He’d never had much luck with being ‘normal’. Not that he really knew what a ‘normal’ person was. Most of his early life had been spent around boarding school teachers, private tutors and household staff, none of whom had particularly taken a liking to Dirk. His parents, his mother in particular, had been unwilling to let him join in with normal childhood activities like playing in the park or going to birthday parties. Most of his friends came later, in secondary school – also a boarding school – but when he was older he learned that none of his time there had been real. Not in the way he thought it had been. The people he thought were his friends didn’t _really_ exist. Moving to Seattle was a relief in that sense too, without his parents looking over his shoulder he could also be reasonably sure that they weren’t puppeteering any of the people around him.

            Another benefit of Seattle was the roads. Dirk had been allowed to buy as many cars as he liked in England, as long as he didn’t stray too far from the estate and since their estate was in the middle of rolling English countryside there wasn’t much to see when driving. Seattle was a different story. There was so much going on, so much to see and most fun of all: other cars! Dirk loved weaving in and out of cars, certain that he wasn’t going to die in a horrible crash. The universe had other plans for him, much grander plans than an accident involving a mini-van.

            Dirks phone pinged at him several times and he let go of the steering wheel to reach behind his seat for the phone. He knew he had thrown it somewhere in that direction when he climbed in. Sure enough, it was jammed beside the bag of groceries, that he had also thrown into the back seat. That had probably not been his brightest idea, given that boxes of tea were now scattered across the car. Dodging the SUV that he was veering towards, Dirk checked the two new messages that had arrived, all from an unknown number.

            _Coffee at Tougo’s, 1410 18 th Ave? 2pm?_

            And then,

            _This is Todd by the way._

            Dirk grinned to himself, he knew the coffee would work. Americans loved their coffee, it was the fastest way to their hearts. At least, that was what the sign in the coffee house he had visited that morning had said, and there was really no reason for it to lie. He carefully formulated his response, after all, he didn’t want to come off over-eager, as though he had been waiting for Todd to text him. He needed a nice, calm response.

            _Great! Can’t wait! See you then!_


End file.
